


New York City Fops

by Larry_say_relax



Category: The Strokes, The Vines
Genre: Alcohol, Barebacking, M/M, Marijuana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-10
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-04 19:56:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larry_say_relax/pseuds/Larry_say_relax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Craig is all alone in the big bad city. Julian comes to his rescue.  Circa 2002</p>
            </blockquote>





	New York City Fops

New York City was the total opposite of Sydney. New York is dark and vast and dirty and rough whereas Sydney is bright and contained and most of all, Sydney is _home._ Craig Nicholls was thinking these things as he lurched out of the bar onto the slick sidewalk outside. It was December, it was cold, and he was fucking drunk. He wasn’t sure why, because as a rule he didn’t drink much. Not since that thing had happened, at least.  
  
He looked around, swaying on his feet, feeling the winter air gnaw at his naked fingertips, his chin, and his cheeks. Even his state of inebriation wasn’t enough to keep the New York winter cold at bay and he wished he’d brought a scarf and some gloves. He realized he had no idea where he was, and that he’d also forgotten the name of the hotel he and his band were staying in (did he know it to begin with?) and he thought that maybe now was the time to begin panicking but his head felt tired and heavy and he really couldn’t be bothered. Instead he began to trudge down the pavement, hands jammed into the pockets of his Puma jacket for warmth, trying his best not to weave or lose his footing- it had sleeted earlier and the nighttime drop in temperature made for dangerous navigation. He removed a joint he’d placed behind his ear earlier and lit it as he walked aimlessly.  
  
He felt something hard in his pocket and he caressed it with his fingers. Ryan’s mobile phone. He remembered now, Ryan trying to pry him away from his seat at the bar while he, Craig, insisted that he was fine, he was having a good time, and he didn’t want to leave just yet. He’d insisted he’d find his way back to the hotel.

  
“Call if you get stuck. Call Andy, Someone’ll collect you.” Andy. Andy would never have let him stay out on his own at a pub in Sydney, let alone a bar in NYC. Unfortunately for Andy, he’d had the oysters at the too-posh restaurant the band had been forced to endure for lunch while the record company exec had droned on and on and had been violently ill all afternoon. In the evening as the boys were preparing to embark on their night on the town Andy had managed to appear at the door to Craig’s room, the skin around his eyes and too-tight mouth an alarming shade of grey-green. His face was shining with sweat.  
  
“Not too late, boys. You have two shoots tomorrow; we want you looking good, eh?” Ryan and Patrick had nodded. Craig hadn’t answered; he’d been too busy rolling five fresh joints into a plastic Ziploc bag and stuffing it securely into his pocket. Andy hadn’t wanted them to go, not without going along to supervise. If Andy was awake right now, chances were he was going out of his mind with agitation, not that Craig could blame him. Not that Craig actually cared, either.  
  
The wind picked up and he was caught in a blast so sharp and strong it made his eyes water and his teeth clench (seconds too late as the joint was ripped from between his lips and sailed off into the night). Through the blur of tears he noticed a doorway a few feet away from where he stood rooted to the spot, muscles tensed, arms pressed tightly to his sides. There was a neon sign in the window blinking a steady scarlet staccato beat into the night. It read simply: BAR. Wincing through the wind he pushed the door open, stumbling in and against the counter. He struggled to catch his breath; winter in Australia was nothing compared to this. What the hell had possessed them to agree to come to New York in December? The bartender was eyeing him with some suspicion as he slid onto a stool and fished in his pockets for his wallet. His hands were so cold that he fumbled it as he pulled it out and it tumbled to the floor. He reached down for it and narrowly avoided cracking heads with someone who was a beat ahead of him in picking it up. A rich voice spoke.  
  
“I got it for you, man.” Craig straightened back up and reached for the proffered wallet. Fingertips brushed and Craig looked down shyly.  
  
“Thanks. My hands are so cold, they aren’t working.”

  
“The fuck you walkin’ around with no gloves on for?” The voice sounded amused. “Huh?” Craig read the last word as a demand that he look up and he did then, his own pale eyes meeting a heavy-lidded dark stare. It was _definitely_ a stare. Craig felt his face flush, felt strangely exposed. He quickly looked down again.

  
“It’s—I didn’t know it was so cold here”. His eyes flitted desperately around the room. The way he was being looked made him feel terribly uncomfortable. “I didn’t think it would be…so cold” he finished lamely. “Om, do you know where the bathroom is?” A hand ran through longish mussed up hair then pointed to the back.  
  
“Back there. On the left.”

  
“Thanks. I’ll be right back.” He slipped off the stool and weaved through the crowd, his head down and his eyes on the floor. Although he couldn’t see them, he felt those black eyes burning into his back. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until the door was closed behind him and locked and he was leaning his forehead against it. He pulled out his second to last joint and lit it. He sucked it down to the nub, feeling warmer and less anxious with every pull.

**

He knocked back a shot, his eyes never leaving the entrance to the little hallway in the back of the bar. What the hell was he doing in there? Strong arms squeezed his waist from behind and a happy voice quipped into his ear.  
  
“I feel bad for whoever you’re waiting for, Jules. I know that fuckin’ look, dude. Psycho, man.”

Julian laughed, leaning back into his friend’s embrace.  
  
“Fuck you, man. You’re just jealous.” Julian complained. “You could have had me, man, but you chose Drew and now you’re stuck with her and I’m a free agent.” He reached up behind his head to awkwardly ruffle Fab’s hair. He froze as the intriguing boy he’d been talking to emerged from the shadowed hallway. He felt like he must have met him before because he was very familiar but he knew he would’ve recognized the tumble of butterflies in his stomach when their eyes met, were this the case. Fab was in the middle of saying something to him but the words died on his lips when he noticed the shift of Julian’s focus.  
  
“Holy shit, man, you know who that is, right?”  
  
“No, man, who is it?”  
  
“Fuck, Jules, that’s Craig Nicholls.” Julian’s brain flashed with recognition.  
  
“From The Vines, right?”

  
“Yeah, they say he’s out of his fuckin’ mind. Crazier than you, even.” Craig had made his way back to the bar and slipped back onto his stool. The bartender materialized in front of him immediately.  
  
“You want a drink or what, guy?”  
  
“Yeah, om, I’ll have a Becks.”  
  
“You got I.D?” Craig handed him his passport then reached back into his pocket for his wallet as a hand flashed out in front of him, slapping several bills onto the bar.  
  
“Billy, I got ‘im, man, Take it out of here.” Craig turned and looked up through swollen eyelids, smiling angelically.  
  
“Thanks. That’s—that was really nice of you.” Julian noticed that Craig’s eyes were decidedly glassier now and that he seemed much less nervous. _little fucker was smoking up in there_ he chuckled to himself.

  
“No problem. I mean, you’re welcome.” Julian stuck out his hand. “I’m Julian. Casablancas.” Craig took it and shook, grinning.  
  
“Ooooh, yeah, right, I know who you are. ‘M Craig--“

  
“—Nicholls.” Julian finished for him. “I know, man, I really like your band. We should totally play together sometime.” Julian moved a little closer, not noticing as Fab rolled his eyes and moved away. “You want a shot? I want one.” He flagged down the bartender and ordered two whiskeys, sliding one over to Craig once they were poured. Against his better judgment Craig toasted Julian and tossed it back, wrinkling his nose in a grimace. Julian noted it and smiled. He wasn’t really into guys, but this one was different. This one seemed special. They settled into a light conversation about the bands they thought were the best, past and present, Julian on the make and Craig feeling more and more comfortable with the man currently hailed as New York’s newest Great White Hope.

  
Julian’s hand was very close to the small of Craig’s back. In fact, Craig felt it brush against him as Julian leaned closer to the bar to call out another drink order for the two of them. The joint he’d smoked had loosened him up considerably but it was the drinking that had relaxed him to the point where he was actually enjoying the attention he was receiving. He found that he was no longer afraid to meet Julian’s eyes. They were dark, hypnotic, magnetic and alluring and the way they seemed to peel back his layers and probe deeply into him had the hair follicles on the back of his neck tingling with excitement.

  
He was having a terrible time dividing his focus between those eyes and Julian’s full sensual lips. Every time he took a drink from his beer or took another shot he licked his lips directly afterwards, his tongue a flash of pink flicking out that was driving Craig to confused distraction. And as they continued to talk and drink Julian kept leaning closer and closer until he was speaking directly into the pink shell of Craig’s ear, his eyes drifting shut as he _accidentally?_ got a little bit too close on occasion and brushed it lightly with his lips. A warm hand slid boldly under his shirt and lightly stroked the small of his back.  
  
The heat of Julian’s breath coupled with his teasing touch was rendering Craig completely voiceless and finally, desperate for more contact, he bit down hard on his lip then turned to face his new friend.  
  
“Do you get high? Come back to the bathroom with me, I wanna smoke.” Julian grinned. _**score.** casablancas 1, nicholls 0._  
  
“Sure man, follow me.” He led the way through the increasingly crowded room, wanting badly to be pulling Craig by the hand but settling for glancing over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure he was still behind him. Craig stuck close and a few moments later Julian was holding the door open for Craig then following him, closing and locking it with an audible **click**. He watched Craig scrabble in his pockets and stepped up to him, placing his hands on his slight and skinny shoulders.  
  
“Dude. Stop.” Craig looked up, hands frozen. Julian lifted a hand to push some hair out of Craig’s eyes. He leaned down and kissed what was apparently the softest mouth in the known universe gently, waiting a beat before slipping his tongue in to stroke and caress. Craig moaned and leaned back against the sink, hot little hands pulling out of his pockets to slide up Julian’s neck and twist lightly in his hair. Julian pulled back with a wicked smile and watched as Craig moved forward, his empty mouth still open, eyes still shut.  
  
“You liked that, huh?” His hands found Craig’s waist and he pulled him closer. “You like kissing me?” Craig’s eyes opened, dull and dreamy.  
  
“Wh-? Om, yeah. _Yeah…_ ” The last word was breathed rather than spoken and Julian leaned back in, kissing deeply. His cock was twitching and getting very hard, very quickly. He pushed himself forward until they were touching and rubbed while he continued to kiss him, liking the way Craig moaned against his mouth in response. In spite of his reputation, Julian wasn’t in the mood to get caught fucking in the bathroom of his favorite watering hole. He pulled back again.

  
“Let’s get the fuck out of here”, he murmured. Julian watched as Craig turned to the sink and ran cold water, splashing his face, trying to force the blush in his cheeks and neck to recede. Impatient, Julian reached over and turned it off. “No time, man. I’m fuckin’ gonna lose my mind. Come on.”  
  
This time he did drag Craig by the hand, not caring who saw them in his desperation to get out of the bar and into Craig’s pants. He stopped at the bar to settle up then they were out on the sidewalk, Julian not even bothering to zip up his jacket as he practically leapt in front of a cab moving toward them. He yanked the door open and let Craig jump in before following and giving his address to the cabbie. He turned back to Craig, who was sitting cross-legged and facing him.  
  
“Now, where were we? Oh yeah, I remember. C’mere.” Craig obediently uncrossed his legs and crawled over. Julian hooked his fingers into Craig’s belt loops and tugged until Craig was straddling his lap. “Much better.” He looked up, entranced by the pixie face hovering over his. He pulled his fingers free and slid his hands up under Craig’s shirt, caressing his sides and back, encouraging Craig to lean closer to him and kiss him.  
  
Gasping, Craig rocked against him, at the same time reaching down to fumble with the flies on Julian’s jeans. He lifted himself up momentarily as he tugged them down to his knees-- a pretty impressive feat, considering he was still straddling him. He reached down and gripped him, squelching any hesitation his brain was trying to concoct, grinning at the way Julian’s head pressed back against the dark leather seat as he gritted his teeth in a bid to keep quiet, eyes squeezed shut. He began to fondle with slow firm stokes, using his thumb to graze the tip, smearing pre-cum as he did.  
  
Julian’s breath was coming fast, his hips were beginning to jerk and he reached for Craig’s flies now, his mind a blur of want mingled with inebriation. He yanked, baring Craig down to his knees. He pushed him to the side, tumbling him onto his back and somehow managed to get Craig’s shoes and jeans off in a single movement. He settled back into his previous position, pulling Craig back into his lap as the cab slowed to a stop and the cabbie called out the fare.  
  
“Change of plans” Julian barked. “Just keep driving til I tell you to stop.” The cab rolled back into the driving lane as the driver tossed over his shoulder :

  
“Sure. It’s your dime.”

  
Craig watched as Julian spat into his palm then smeared his own cock with it, saliva blending with the wetness that had already seeped out of him. Placing one hand on Craig’s smooth hip, Julian pulled Craig toward him, using the other hand to hold himself steady. He marveled at Craig’s paleness; his alabaster tones made his own complexion look downright fucking exotic. He knew he should be going slower, that he should have tried to prepare Craig for what was coming, but he was so fucking hard he couldn’t wait, he needed to fuck and he needed it now; there was no way he could control himself, not now, when he had this beautiful fuck on top of him, touching him, teasing him.  
  
Maneuvering himself to the place, he pressed urgently. Craig leaned forward, pressing teeth into Julian’s shoulder. Straining his hips forward Julian felt warmth and some resistance and eased back, then urged Craig closer again by pressing on his hip. He repeated the movement. The third time, he felt something give and he slipped partway in with a grunt. He eased back then pushed in all the way, liking the way Craig abruptly straightened and arched his back. Silent but for his rapid breath, Craig began almost wiggling his hips, moving in tight little circles. Julian opened his eyes to see Craig’s blank eyes staring right at him, his mouth open, Adam’s apple working furiously.  
  
Biting back a moan, Julian moved faster, one hand still on Craig’s milky hip, forcing it down in time with his own thrusts, the other sliding up his chest, fingers splayed beneath the now damp tee shirt. He felt the muscles in his thighs begin to jump and his hips began to buck and jump beyond all command or control. The combined sound of skin slapping, Craig’s stuttered breath and his own heartbeat were the only sounds registering. He knew he was close and he reached down to grip Craig’s neglected cock, forcing more reaction from him.  
  
Craig began to almost bounce in Julian’s lap, and a clicking sound emerged from his throat. He leaned back, grinding himself down against Julian with all his strength as clicks turned to _huhhuhuhuhuhuhuh_ ’s. He slammed a hand against the dark leather seat beside Julian’s head, the other digging into his shoulder. Julian couldn’t take his eyes off him, watching as Craig’s eyes slid shut almost all the way, mouth still hanging open, and his body began to shudder helplessly. He tensed and finally, raising a hand to his lips, _finally_ groaned an animal sound into the palm of his hand and Julian felt wet warmth in his hand. Reaching up, he touched wet fingers to Craig’s lips, watching as his tongue flicked out to lick him clean.

  
Seeing it was too much, and Julian felt it coming, white heat igniting in his belly and exploding every capillary in him. Too late he remembered- _no fuckin’ rubber. i’m fuckin’ bare backing him._ The thought should have made him shove Craig off him so he could jerk off over him and come on his smooth belly, but it didn’t. It just made him move faster, as he gripped his hips with both hands to prevent Craig pulling away. He arched, and everything behind his eyes went nuclear, blinding him to everything but the feeling of Craig, of tightness, of that mouth sucking on his fingers. He exploded, a few _”fuck yeah”_ ’s slipping out of his mouth as he slumped forward. Resting his damp forehead against Craig’s chest he savored the aftershocks rocketing through him.  
  
Julian stirred as he felt gentle hands in his hair. A soft voice spoke into his ear.  
  
“Om, Julian, we’re still—I mean, like, the cab. The fare’s gonna be really focking high.” Julian raised his head and looked up. Craig’s cheeks were still suffused with blood and he felt himself twitch just a little bit at the sight.  
  
“Yeah man, you’re right. Fuck. Hey. Cabbie, can you head back to that address?” The cabbie grunted in response and Julian grinned. “Yeah, like you haven’t seen it before.” Craig rolled off him and began to pull his jeans back on as Julian raised his ass off the seat and tugged his own up and fastened them. He ran a hand through his hair and looked over.  
  
“Craig?”  
  
“Mmmmmm?” Craig was working on getting his shoes on now.

  
“You can call me Jules. If you want. All my friends call me that. I mean…” He trailed off. He wasn’t in the habit of fucking his friends. Well, he was, but usually they were already friends when the fucking occurred. “Call me Jules, huh?”  
  
“Okay. D’you think we can smoke in here?”

Julian had read about Craig’s voracious appetite for marijuana, who hadn’t? He considered.  
  
“I dunno. We’re almost at my place. You, uh, still coming in? Cause you can smoke as much as you want there.” He cursed himself silently. _that sounded so fucking lame…oh craigy, if you come into my house so i can fuck you some more i’ll let you smoke pot…SHIT._ Craig looked over at him. He was chewing his lip thoughtfully.  
  
“You still want me to?” His voice was so soft and that lilting accent was like music. Julian felt his insides softening, melting. He reached out and touched Craig’s cheek. His voice was uncharacteristically soft.

  
“Yeah, I do. I really want you to.” Craig beamed, his eyes flashing in the darkness.  
  
“Ok, I’ll come then.” Julian smiled and sat back, his heart skipping a little bit as Craig slid closer and leaned into him, nuzzling his neck and shoulder with a sigh. His hand found Craig’s in the dark and their fingers tangled affectionately. The cab rolled to a stop and Julian paid the driver with the last of his cash, not even caring that the fare was in the triple digits. He glanced over at Craig.

  
“You ready?” Craig nodded. “ Then let’s go. We have a busy night ahead of us, man.”


End file.
